TW: Holocaust, Israeli-Palestinian conflict, mentions of suicide and other difficult topics, trauma

Hello everyone!!! So this turned to be quite a long post and I know that lot of you are not going to read it to the end, therefore I separated it into more parts. But I still hope that this post will be helpful both for someone else and myself, because this is a topic that it's not usually talked about. And my case is even more unusual, so that makes everything more difficult.

Also, I'm aware that although the terms vicarious trauma and secondary trauma are often used interchangeably, there are some people that see a difference between those two terms. For the sake of simplicity, I may sometimes refer to my case simply as vicarious trauma, because that's the first label I learned and I'm used to it. I also like it more, because it sounds more general and inclusive than the term secondary trauma (for example my case would probably me more like tertiary trauma, if you want to play with words).

I'm also aware that in my case it's much more difficult to give me a clear answer on whether I am actually vicariously traumatized after all. Not only that vicarious or secondary trauma is not a diagnosis itself, my mechanism of development was even more unusual, so I need to somehow count on the possibility that I don't really have vicarious or secondary trauma, although that is very unlikely in my opinion. I use the term more as a working title and I write this disclaimer because I want people do their research first or most ideally to talk with some professional before they diagnose themselves based solely on my story.

So, let's get started.

❤️‍🩹 CONTEXT:

It all started when I started dating one person. I am a neurodivergent person on the asexual-aromantic spectrum, so being more intimate with someone was a quite new experience for multiple reasons for me. But my brain didn't take it very well. It actually activated a cascade of quite crazy defense mechanisms in me.

It started like partner focused OCD. Not only I became hyperfixated on my partner in the pleasant ways, but my brain started to question their morals. I started to have a lot of obsessions about them, some of them were scary, controversial, some of them were crazy and even genuinely funny. The most difficult obsessions were mostly like: „what if they raped someone?”, „what if they did something really bad in the past?” etc., etc.

At this point my brain searched for anything about my partner that it could obsess about. Not only for things that my partner could potentially do in the past, but even for bad things that may happened to them. I could obsess over them being the bad one or being the victim of something. And that's important to remember.

I experienced this really stressful period for about two months. I lived in constant anxiety, I wanted to tell them and not tell them at the same time so I kept most of the things for myself. I had a new obsession once every few days and that all slowly robbed me of my mental resilience. But I also started to show an immense bout of empathy towards them that I'm not quite used to in other people. Despite all of this, I felt a deep compassion and fondness towards them and I knew that I am willing to undergo all of this what my brain does in order to be close to them.

❤️‍🩹 THE POINT:

And then, one evening we were talking (we are mostly long distance, so we were actually chatting online) about quite deep things and they told me that one of their parents was actually Jewish and therefore a part of their family died in the Holocaust. This was very, very terrible for me to hear. I immediately started shaking and that night I slept really bad and needed to take a sleeping pill. This is something that actually happened few times before and one time after due to my OCD, but in all of the other times, I reached my partner and found out that my brain was simply overreacting and that the truth wasn't that wild, so I calmed down. But this was different, because you know, there's no way how you could alleviate a genocide!! So I was forced to stay with this extreme feelings. And of course my OCD itself started to search what it might obsess about on my partner's Jewishness, but that's quite a different story. Slowly I started to realized that although I do have obsessions on this topic, there is also something deeper hidden. Something, that wasn't there before. I realized that the OCD is not my only problem anymore.

And then, around two and half months ago, I stumbled upon the term "vicarious trauma" and it all slowly stared to make sense for me.

❤️‍🩹 THE SYMPTOMS:

I felt that something in me changed after the particular day they disclosed me this horrible thing that happened to their family. It went to the point where I felt unwell evertime I scrolled through photos in our chat that we sent around that particular time. Sometimes I am scrolling through the photos in our chat in order to just look at them or for nostalgy or something, and for sime time I felt almost triggered when I was coming close to photos "from that times".

Then I started to observe the constant anger and irritation. If I had anger issues before, it went to a whole new level afterwards. Do you know the feeling when your about to get your period? Or do you know how sensitive people around you feel when they are about to get their period? So imagine that feeling but for many months straight. I actually become more violent in arguments with my family as well. It was like very observable shift in my anger levels. I even started to wonder if it's not something hormonal or something like brain tumor in my amygdala or stuff, that definite the difference was, but then I linked it direcly to my reaction to the Holocaust talk.

Then I started to observe the angst. Angst is defined as „a feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general.” It is the feeling that many teenagers have and therefore they're so rebellious in their puberty. I actually started to feel more like a teenager than when I was a teenager. Even my music taste expanded and I started to listen to genres that people around me listened to in our teenage years and I didn't get it at that time.

Of course I also started to have intrusive thoughts about those topics. When I was close to my partner, I might even get some sort of antisemitic intrusive thoughts. But this is in my case a very clearly an OCD thing. OCD latches on things that are sensitive to us and it tries to turn it against us. And yes, even unwanted racist or other hateful thoughts are quite a common part of this disorder. My OCD and my vicarious/secondary trauma are actually really related. I think my vicarious trauma stems from my intense OCD episode and then my OCD was reinforced my vicarious trauma.

I also started to feel that there are sudden limits that appeared whenever I have a conversation with someone about their traumas and difficult topics. It's as if my brain started to be scared of people sharing their traumas with me, because it may happen again! I started to become more sensitive to traumatic topics and events in general, which was always pretty unusal in me, because usually I'm a person that is unable to fully emotionally empathize until they experiences the same or at least similar thing in their life themselves. And for quite a long time I wasn't able to talk about the Holocaust and other Jewish traumas at all. Now I can at least chat with people online about those things, but it still may drain me of my mental energy really quick. It's as if there is a some sort of mental battery or stamina that goes low very quickly when I'm exposed to those topics, mainly when I'm exposed unexpectedly.

And actually I experienced one particular flashback/retraumatization. One evening our relative came and told us that their partner attempted to commit suicide. The partner were physically ok, but since I'm close to that person and since it was... well, a trauma of someone else... I started to shake, dissociate and got a full panic attack in my own home, which is not that common anymore.

Of course I started to be triggered around everything Holocaust related. I think my symptoms became more intense because of, yes, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. For the first time in my life I needed to set filters for words like "antisemitism" on my Instagram. In those times my OCD flared up again, because I started to be scared that what if someone find out that my partner is actually Jewish and they do or say something bad to them. The weeks after the conflict escalated were one of the most anxious times in my life. It was absolutely common that I was under stress that intense that I started to cry on lectures at school for three times a day. I also started to suffer from violent or even borderline suicidal ideations, because my body didn't know what to do with all the stress.

I even found a coping mechanism that some people might find a bit controversial. I have a best friend that has a very dark and politically incorrect sense of humor. So we started to make dark jokes on those topics. If someone said a dark joke about the Jews or the Holocaust who is not my best friend, I would probably be triggered, but with my best friend we established a safe environment and emotional support and it was actually very healing and it helped me immensely, maily with my intrusive thoughts. He is also the only person I joked about those things with. Then I realized that there is no need to joke about it anymore, it helped me, it was my therapy tool but now I need to move on, because continuing doing those jokes just for my entertainment would be quite immoral and insensitive in my opinion, so I'm doing it less and less. This is actually one of the unexpected moral challenges that comes with being vicariously traumatized. Can you make those jokes if they help you psychologically but you're not a part of that group socially and/or culturally?

On the other hand, I started to feel really protective, almost overprotective over Jewish people. That's also one of the reasons why I stayed much more nuanced when it comes to the war in the environment of mostly propalestian people.

❤️‍🩹 THE CHALLENGES IN PSYCHOLOGY:

I found out that I face many challenges with this condition. Because not only vicarious/secondary trauma is a very unknown topic by itself, my mechanism of development is actually really unusual as well. Vicarious trauma is often associated with professionals working with traumatized people. Which is not my case.

I don't even fall into the caregiver category, because I didn't directly witness the symptoms of my partners trauma. Once they even told me that at this point "You're more traumatized by it more than I am!". (I personally don't like to say it like this, because generational trauma is a much more complex thing, so they are traumatized in different ways and I don't feel I can compare my vicarious trauma to the Jewish generational trauma, but I only wanted to point out that yes, the symptoms of traumatic stress was much higher at that time then theirs).

Of course I didn't witness directly what happened to their family. I just learned it one evening while sitting in my bathtub.

So my case is very usual in itself, even my therapist and psychiatrist told me that they're not able to determine with certainty if I am vicariously traumatized at all, just because it's a very unknown psychological phenomenon and my mechanism of development is even more unknown.

And because I'm of a very explorative nature, I have decided that when I will be ready, and if my partner will be ok with that, I would really like to start doing an awareness or even some sort of research on this topic.

I actually have my own hypothesis. I think that the reason my mechanism of development is different is simply because I'm neurodivergent. And vicarious trauma in neurodivergent people is not researched at all. I believe that this can happen also to already traumatized people and to people with attachments issues, for example for people with borderline personality disorder.

I believe that people with pathological or neurodivergent style of attachments to other people can be actually more prone to developing vicarious trauma and that our stress that originate in our brains can substitute the stress originating from the environment in people that work or live with obviously traumatized people. So this is something I would really like to research.

❤️‍🩹 THE QUESTION:

So I wanted to ask, if there is anyone with vicarious/secondary trauma as well. Even if you had the textbook (as it there were enough textbooks about it) case of vicarious trauma and only if you're comfortable with sharing it, share it to the details that you're comfortable sharing.

And if there are any therapists and other trauma professionals or just people that knows a lot about trauma, I may even want to ask you if my story reminds you vicarious/secondary trauma at all. Because even I sometimes wonder if it's not just a very intense OCD episode after all. But I think that I can clearly call it vicarious trauma, because it's just somehow different from my usual OCD, it's also more complex and my experience is very similar even in very niche ways to experiences of others with vicarious trauma.

And also I would like to ask, if there is anybody with the similar mechanism of development as me.

Is there someone neurodivergent and/or with pathological/neurodivergent attachment style who developed vicarious trauma like symptoms like me?

Also you can ask me more questions, but I may respond more vaguely or I will let you know that I'm not comfortable responding yet if the question was too personal and/or sensitive.

EDIT: I see that I got one or two downvotes. I would like to say that I'm still learning how to talk about this and how to find the right combination of being sensitive and honest. This is just another of the challenges coming with vicarious trauma, because when you want to talk about it, you have to be mindful not only of your boundaries but also of boundaries of the direcly affected people. So if you feel offended by something that I said, or you have the feeling that I could say something more empathically and sensitively, please let me know! And please, be polite if you want to give me some criticism. Remember, that this is not my fault. For some people it can be quite challenging to not feel like an impostor or even pretendian, but... the human brain is actually both really fascinating and weird, so... sometimes those things just happen. I really want to learn how to be as empathetic as possible when it comes to this topic, but still honest at the same time. ❤️‍🩹

I have a friend who was a victim of martial SA. Possibly other abuses that she can’t bring up to me. (Don’t expect her to, am not pushing to know more.).

Her family is very “stuck our heads in the sand and pretend it didn’t happen” people. They don’t talk about it and if she mentions feeling uneasy, hesitant, worried they get annoyed because it’s “tiring” (she’s said this much in a letter).

Her ex has since been deported back to his home country (was originally delayed due to COVID and then a multitude of bs petitions to the court). She confided in another letter that she doesn’t know if he is really deported despite what the Immigration worker said. And she is worried about him coming back. But she won’t move-she met him while living alone out of state from her family; but even when they moved close to family they didn’t say anything when they saw problematic behaviors (because it’s not their place to interfere in her marriage—again these people stick their heads in the sand).

I’ve suggested going to a self defense class; and possibly taking her current bff. I asked if she was in therapy but she mentioned having a hard time finding any with her insurance that has openings. But I’m not sure if that’s true or if she’s worried about being judged for what happened to her. Since her family was so hands off and whatnot.

We are over 20+ hours apart so I can’t physically go and help her. And even if I visited; I worry that when I left she’d backslide.

What else can I suggest for her? She’s in the Wisconsin/Minnesota area of the US if that helps.

I’ve let her know I’m a 100% anti-judging zone. That if she needs anything I’d do everything in my power to get to her or find her help. But I worry that just me and our letters isn’t enough to truly do her any good.

https://medium.com/@bennettkaylee110/haunting-hearts-my-first-story-of-what-happened-to-me-and-started-my-trauma-0b4296c19d42

I’ve decided to share with you all on here in hopes it may help someone. I have started a blog that tells my journey of trauma. Please be aware it is raw and describes horrific events. I just started and more to come, but I highly encourage those that are struggling, or feel alone. There is always hope, even in our darkest times.

Welcome to my blog, where I courageously delve into the depths of my own trauma and recovery journey. This is intended to bring empowerment to others who may be navigating similar paths. Join me as I unravel the complexities of healing, offering a beacon of hope and solidarity in the often turbulent seas of trauma.

So for context, I’m a 33yo man. I grew up in a very abusive (physical, and mentally) home. Biological dad died when I was a baby and my step dad would beat on me growing up for even the smallest thing. I remember a story my mom told me. I was like 2 years old and had an accident while I was sleeping in a chair at his house before they were married and he beat me for it. And the abuse got worse until I hit puberty and out grew him and finally stood up for myself. Then as time went on, mom became mentally abusive and would always gaslight me to make me believe I was the one in the wrong. And then as I got older she got physically abusive. I remember one time I asked to go out to eat after church and she punches me in the mouth. She’s kicked me out of the house for not doing dishes at like 11 at night on a school night. And being told to figure it out…. Just a lot of stuff. I’m sorry for rambling. I just feel like I’m just emptying my mind and venting on this so I’m sorry if it’s hard to read.

But now I’m grown with 4 kids of my own. And she’s now doing the same thing to my kids. Gas lighting them. Crossing boundaries. Having sex talks with my 11&9 year old daughters. Showing them vaginas and penis’s. And no matter what I do or say she doesn’t stop crossing boundaries. She forces them to talk to her about things that are private to them and only talks to me or their mom about or she takes their phone until they do.

Again I’m sorry for rambling on. But I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m tired of feeling depressed cause I want a healthy relationship with the only parents I have. I know they’re gunna die one day and there will be a lot of regret. But at the same time I need to protect my kids.. and idk how to have the conversation with her about not crossing boundaries and her actually listen. Idk… how do I just let everything go and just feel okay about it??

Also dad moved out of state and haven’t seen him in years which is why I stopped talking about him.

Mother’s Day is coming and it’s a day that I really resent because my mom and I do not have a good relationship. We don’t talk anymore ever since I confronted her and told her how she makes me feel/how she affects my life. She’s a recovering addict/alcoholic and really narcissistic.

I’ve been getting a lot of anxiety and guilt thinking about the situation lately, until yesterday when I attempted to set a boundary with someone at work who was disrespecting me.

Long story short, after confronting a coworker and telling them that I felt disrespected by something they did, they immediately heard me out, apologized, and offered solutions so that the issue wouldn’t happen again. Just like that! I was shocked! This person respected what I was saying, took my feelings seriously, and met me half way to resolve an issue and move forward!

I’ve always been terrified to set boundaries with others (which has resulted in me becoming a people pleaser) because my mom would always retaliate with insults, guilt trips, and reasons why I’m a horrible kid. But, it just goes to show that THAT wasn’t normal. People have the ability to talk through things and hear you.

Additionally, I came to the realization that if my mom really wanted to talk to me, if she really wanted her only kid in her life, she would have reached out to me in the last 6 months, but she hasn’t. Not once. So why do I have to feel guilty about not talking to her on Mother’s Day when she hasn’t acted like my mother in years?

I’m having a hard time understanding something that’s driving me crazy. This is a bit long but I would deeply appreciate anyone who can give any advice: A little over a year ago I had an experience that in the end I account as rape. I was drinking quite a bit with some friends and a guy I had texted a bit, but met for the first time. I was on my period and had told him I wasn’t interested in having sex this night. After hours of fun and drinking with everyone, my friends crashed at my place and I told him he was welcome to as well since he too had been drinking. I had been affectionate towards him, but also had expressed at least twice I didn’t want to have sex. My last memories (which I still have all accounted for) were getting into bed then us briefly kissing. My next memory was me being laying on my stomach and him being inside of me. I don’t think I was fully aware of what was happening for a moment then grasping what was happening and asking him to stop. I went to the bathroom to notice my tampon had been completely shoved up inside of me. I also came to learn he hadn’t work a condom, which is something I always would require if I were to have sex with someone. I checked the time in my phone and saw it had been ~1.5 hours after I layed down and lost memories. He said right after “sorry I shouldn’t have done that”, then I layed down unsure of what had happened and fell asleep. Of course he was gone and never texted but one message more the next day. Anyway, in my journey to still process this, I am struggling to see if I’ll ever know if I dissociated during that time or had some sort of alcohol blackout. I doubt if I was assaulted because I was blacked out mentally, or physically, or what happened in that 1.5 hours that led to where I was. At the end of the day, knowing my tampon was shoved inside of me, by someone without a condom, two things that make it impossible for me to have knowingly consented, my heart knows it was assault. All this being said, my biggest question , does anyone know if alcohol blackouts can occur like this? Where I have every normal amount of memory before and after the incident but just a solid 1.5 hours completely gone? Could it have been a combo of factors? Maybe my body wasn’t strong enough to ward him off or what? This has been bothering me for months now trying to understand it. I’m just struggling to understand this and not knowing what happened exactly make me strongly doubt the ways I feel about it all this time later, but the utter violation and pain I hold from it. Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

i've asked this in another subreddit before, and i never truly got an answer.

this is a little difficult to word, so please bear with me. i was never physically abused or overly neglected as a child, unlike a lot of the people around me. and i started believing that i didn’t have enough trauma to justify my mental illness— that i was just faking it all. whilst i am fully aware that such a mindset is harmful, i can never truly bring myself to believe i’m valid enough, and frankly, most of the time i dont even think im traumatised at all. it’s gotten bad enough to the point i frequently daydream and genuinely hope that i was physically abused, neglected etc etc, and even sought out those wants, despite how inherently twisted that want is.

i understand that this is a relatively common problem, does anyone know how to stop this feeling? any help would be appreciated!

Tragically my husband and the father of my children recently passed away, not even a full 24 hours after getting relesed from jail. It was a drug overdose. It was absolutely horrific when it comes to how i found him and the emergency sevices so im aware there may be trauma. My son has been aware that his father was an addict long before his death. He's a very perceptive kid and he called out his father in an argument where his father started crying and admitted his problem to him. I guess after he got out of jail my son made him promise that he wasn't ever going to use drugs again. So after the death when I told him he did cry and I held him till he fell asleep. But the next day he was back to playing as usual. He was playing with his cousins, playing video games and hasn't want to miss a baseball game and tommorow he wants to go back to school. It hasn't been that long not even a week. He had one outburst after he was getting really mad about losing on fortnite. I stopped him and said "this isn't about fortnite is it?" He said "yes it is. Not everything is about that drug addict who couldn't even keep a promise". Then he calmed down and went right back to playing. He hasn't had an outburst since and if you didn't know our family you'd think he was totally fine. I've been a wreck and I just can't understand why he isn't. He was close to his father before and hugged him and even cried when he was released from jail. I'm very worried for him. Should I be or does this sound like his own way of grieving?

Edit: thank you everyone for your honesty. Everyone's been walking on eggshells with me like I can't handle the truth. Yes he had amazing qualities that's why I fell in love with him to begin with but the years of addiction then getting clean and lying about it it, saving him from several odd only for him to tell me that I don't know what an overdose is have taken their toll on me and my children. I'm angry too. I'm angry he promised he'd never put me through another overdose. I'm angry that he did it in our home while the kids were there. I'm angry he couldn't keep any of the promises he's made. The truth is I've lost people before. I thoughti could handle death in a healthy way. I've never been a Cryer but I am now. I know my son is just a kid and I'm sure he's grieving and I'm not going to shame him for what he's doing. I had him in therapy before because of the addiction and because I was planning on leaving his father. I've just never seen a child act so normal when going through something so horrific. I'm worried for him I'm not angry with my son. I just want to help him.

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I'm really struggling to focus on my studies right now because of this sexual trigger that comes up a few times during my day. Certain things my family member does unintentionally remind me of past sexual trauma, and it's causing me a lot of irritation and anger. But right now, I don't think confronting them is the solution because they're not the real problem—I just need to deal with myself. it's affecting my ability to concentrate on my upcoming exams. I can't relocate to study elsewhere, so I'm seeking advice on managing these emotions and refocusing on my studies. When this sexual trigger arises, I find it impossible to continue studying—I become too upset. Just to clarify, the past experience was sexual trauma, though not too severe.

Any tips/advice/guidancethat on coping would be immensely appreciated.

How do you deal with rejection trauma of someone who you are close to/trust.how have you healed your rejection trauma?

I feel like I’m continually in the same cycle. Growing up my dad was my main parent, and when he started dating my step mom, he basically did not have time for me and my sibling ( I was 16). Prior to that we would do many things as a family .

Other cases

1. In a relationship with someone who we were talking about having an ENM relationship. I really trusted and cared for this person. They cheated, and I was able to accept this and move ON, they wanted to presue ENM, I said as long as it’s not with the said person he cheated with, and he said no it’s important to me.

2. Friends/dating this guy for about 5 months, saw on a weekly basis. Really cared for, connected with and started to trust. He then pulled away and I realized he started seeing two others . One person he said he didn’t even like but still made more time for her then me .

All of these cases involve being close to someone, them loving me, having someone new in their life and less attention on our relationship, feeling unheard/abandoned, then the anxious/avoidant/hurt cycle plays over and over until the relationship no longer exist/takes a long break.

20 days ago I attempted suicide by gunshot. I used a 124 grain red tip hollow point under my chin. The bullet ricocheted off my chin and came through the front of my jaw. After shooting myself I waited 5 hours to get help thinking I wouldn’t make it. I spent a total of 8 days in the hospital after a 7 hour surgery. Mentally; I’m doing better more now than ever.. EXCEPT.. I struggle with how insane the full scope of the events went. I don’t understand how I could have survived. More days then not, I catch myself questioning if I’m still living in the “real world” like I was before?

The brain stays active for minutes after death. Some cells can remain “active” for hours after. Although it’s not proven that there is consciousness during this time, there isn’t anything showing it’s not possible.

What coping mechanism or skills can I start working on to curve this thought pattern?

Any help would be greatly appreciated:)

there's a lot to this even the tldr is a paragraph.

tldr: I'm like a cornered animal when men get aggressive around me, I've been feeling quite positive over the last week, but after today I just think at some point in my life, someone is going to do something to me and I'm not going to have any control over how I react. my dad beating me has left aggressive trauma responses. I see a viscious cycle in how I have trained my cats and now my puppy, In which brute strength always becomes my prevalent attitude to disciplining. (nothing physically abusive, just unwarranted lack of patience with lead pulling, or shouting when she doesnt listen) I hate myself and my dad for making me this way and I want it to stop. therapy didn't help with this specifically. nor did meds.

. I (31m) dont know what to even start with. but I'll go with what I think is causing this issue (hence newly joining and writing on this forum) and then I will explain what I mean by the snap.

Deep down I know I'm a soft soul, and would rather be completely loving and unmoved by irrational people and my resulting onslaught of rage and self hatred. I'm being a bit cryptic I'm sorry for that. the crux is, my dad beat me, and I have never ever understood it. my understanding goes as far as a police person telling me "his father beat him, and it is unrealistic to assume he would find it easy to not do it, since it's how he was taught how he should learn" not exactly a fucking good nor helpful thing to tell a teen boy.

I have been dealing with some depression, anxiety, anger and undiagnosed adhd for the last 7 years, (now since diagnosed adhd 7 months ago) I quit ~2yrs ago my frankly abusive retail job of 5 years, (isn't that a funny coincidink...) because I couldn't stop getting angry at the general public (understandably..) and taking that shit home and ruminating uncontrollably about every single moment, badly. punching the shower wall in aid of breaking my hand, [un]fortunately I know how to not break my hand when punching something and thus can do some serious wall and knuckle damage. that's important to mention because this is part of my rage that I cant let go of, but also wish I had the power and invincibility I feel when doing that but on people who mentally abuse and threaten me. I beleive I am at a stage of my life where I, do, not, accept it and thus react in a "immovable object" fashion.

example 1; I lost my shit at a snarky clearly locking to feel above anyone who said "leave her alone shes clearly having fun" to me when I was training my dog recall and lead discipline, I had my headphones in so I had to say "hold what?" and he said it again and I hadn't paused or removed my headphones before he said it again, so I had to say "hold on, sorry what are you saying?" I said shut up. shut the fuck up, mind your own. he said do you really wana mess with me today and pointed at his plimsolls, I didn't care what he was trying to say I dont know what that means, I assume it's "im on day release" "I just got out" "im wearing plimsoles"

at that point I was on 150mg sertraline, useless to stop me getting angry. I didnt like the implication he was saying I don't know what im doing, nor that he was somehow superior to me

example 2; my first ever grown man actual physical altercation, fathers day, on the way to see my abuser ironically i got threatened and disrespected by a man of similar age to my dad when he abused me, the fight was dumb and my girlfriend had to get in the middle, I felt like a small tiny insignificant guy, the fight was a draw, he threw 3 punches and threw none how the fuck am I going to protect my girlfriend if he so chooses to hurt her now that she is standing in between us. the man was pathetically childish before and after, like throwing my car keys that fell out my pocket In to a Bush when a random person asked if they were mine and I couldn't respond fast enough since i was on the phone to the police. and the wave of "you can't do anything" came over me. the police also did nothing. they lied about it being his word against mine. I felt worthless, and the worst part was, when I got to my parents, my dad, who hasn't hit me since I reported him, cuddled me when I started explaining what happened and started to cry. he used to beat me and then cry and say "sorry, I love you"

I couldn't say I love you to anyone for a long time.

which brings me to today and the reason I am writing this After a very successful day, and a very fun, long, and not at all depressed, karaoke sesh in the shower me and my partner decided to take our female golden retreiver out and go get a nice burger and a drink. On the way we were to cross a bridge I did not realise the extent of the fear my Eila [eye-lah] had at crossing this bridge. I call her my chick pea, my chicken pie, my Eily-weily, she's the sweetest fucking thing impossible to not love. some how, I can for go that love. a drunk man, clearly looking for an issue, and also unaware we know him as our adjacent flat neighbours son whom we've shared positive greetings with in the past. said "how could you do that too her" do what? she's clearly fucking shitting herself (she's leg splaid like a rock) my gf bites first and I think something clicked and my brain said oh okay, go time, I said it'll be real interesting to see you when you're sober and all nice again mate, see if you remember us. "come on then, go put your dog down over there yeah and come sort this out" and the ensuing shouting was shut your fucking mouth cunt, shut your mouth shut your fucking little cunt mouth. he was clearly looking for something. I could not help but shout back and I just thought, where the hell has all my mental strength gone? why have I let this man get to me. and why have I let this scenario ruin my evening, and why have I become the person he was portraying me to be, an extremely unpatient puppy owner. why has my dad's abuse given me the same fucking curse of abusing my child (admittedly in way less of a physical manner but still unwarranted) and children for that matter eg, chasing off my male cat when he poops on a training pad instead of his litter box, chasing of my female cat when she meows too much.

is this even my trauma response, or am I just a peice of shit? I'm a loving kind and supportive individual in how I live, but when I am disrespected I flip a switch, and I worry that one day that switch will stay on, or worse burn a fuse and cause a massive disaster.

If we allow our emotions to dictate what we see in others or how we perceive life, we are only seeing what we project. If we can contain our emotions Long enough to look for the beauty or lesson in every situation, we will find it.

I am brand new to this community, seeking some guidance on a recurring intrusive memory I have had my entire life since the event happened.

First, let me preface this with that I am a 38yo woman and have been in weekly therapy for almost three years now. An abusive relationship triggered me to start therapy, my therapist helped me navigate my way out of that relationship, and then as we moved through my recovery, it opened insight into how learned unhealthy patterns as a child were the root of a lot of the abusive relationships I have been in. I never saw my childhood as particularly traumatic, I always viewed it as though we all have hardships growing up and my mom wasn't perfect (but what parent is) and that it all helped me in the long run to me a strong, resilient human. My mentality changed as I delved deeper into my childhood in therapy and, for the first time in my life, allowed myself to feel and grieve super traumatic events I experienced as a child.

That being said, I have been able to get into a lot of it with my therapist, but there are some memories I am just not comfortable sharing because they feel so humiliating in a way that I feel will stigmatize me (though my brain knows this not to be true, cannot convince myself that my therapist won't look at me differently).

A specific recurring memory that I have considered sharing with my therapist, but am not yet ready is one that plagues and confuses me. I can't tell if it is traumatic or if the even was abusive and I often find myself racking my brain to make sense of it. So I came here, to be able to anonymously seek some guidance...

I grew up with a single mom who had me when she was 19, very young. My mom was constantly naked around the house with just me and her there. When I was about 7-years-old, I can remember my mom calling me into the bathroom. She was sitting on the toilet naked, which was not uncommon, but she said she needed to teach me about tampons. At that point, I did not know anything about periods or sanitary napkins. She told me that I needed to watch her take out her tampon so that I would know how to do it someday, and aside from that, I can't remember her sharing any educational info about periods, such as why I would need to use a tampon, etc. She then had me watch her pull out her extremely bloody tampon and showed it to me. I can distinctly remember a feeling of terror and panic wash over me and I used ever fiber of my being to hide those feelings, try to pretend like what she did as normal, and get the fuck out of there as peacefully as possible. That feeling of hiding my discomfort/fear/disgust with her was common, and I was pretty skilled at hiding it to not upset her.

Where I am at with this is - was this abusive and, if so, why? Part of me says yes, it was because it was inappropriate to show a girl at my age and because of the way it made me feel, but then another part of me says that I am overreacting and my mom was just trying to prepare me for something that I would eventually need to do.

Any insight to this experience to help me come to a real conclusion about this experience would be super appreciated since I am not yet ready to recount this one with my therapist. I don't know if this is the right place to come for this and I am sorry if it's too much/out of line.

Hi there. This is my very first post on this subreddit and it’s something I need help with. This incident lives in my mind every single day and it’s like poison to me. A couple friends made jokes on the matter, I had one who let me vent on the subject, and the other; was “there” when it happened. FOREWARNING! This story does involve sexual matters and I wanted to make that well-known in case others are upset or triggered by the subject.

Context: I’m currently 22 years old (this incident took place when I was 21). My roommate is a best friend of mine who I’ve known for over 11 years (for the sake of the story I’m going to call him Roomie for the remainder of this). He’s like family to me considering my family is tiny in comparison to his. I can’t even keep track of how many cousins he has, a lot my age too. I had even tried asking out one of his cousins when I was in 8th Grade…..never led to anything. But after that happened, I made a promise to Roomie that I wouldn’t try getting with any of his cousins again. He shrugged it off and said he didn’t care about it whatsoever, but I was under the impression that doing such a thing would fracture my friendship with Roomie. Despite the large amount of time I would spend partying with his family, I did my best to not to let me romantic feelings get the better of me and kept my word, until last year.

The Beginning: Roomie and I were invited to a house party by one of his cousins (we’ll call her Lady for this story. Lady is the same age as roomie and I (all 21 at the time). So just like every other party, Roomie and I were planning on showing up for no more than two hours and then leave so we can go home and get drunk without having to worry about anything. But that plan fell apart the moment we walked in. Roomie got into all sorts of activities involving alcohol and I tagged along, drinking with him along the way. We had definetly stayed longer than we planned. People had started either leaving or passing out until about a couple groups were left. Even Roomie had reached his limit and had passed out on top of some dining room chairs. I was in the kitchen with him when Lady came into the room. It was just the three of us, we’ll two of us considering Roomie was passed out. She walked over to me with this big smile and started laughing. She asked if she could ask me a question without me getting upset. I reassured her that it was fine, and she then proceeded to ask me if I was gay. (Note: this was a common question asked by Roomie and Lady’s family considering Roomie is Gay and I am Straight) I laughed it off and told her I wasn’t. I followed it up with asking why her family all thought that. She then grinned, grabbed me my shirt and I cannot make up the fact that she said “Well, if you just want to prove them wrong, then why don’t you come shove your tongue down my throat.” I smiled and thought, why the hell not; seems harmless enough plus I could get them to stop asking me that question. We went at it for a couple minutes before a group of people had came through the front door and into the kitchen. We kinda laughed and pretended like nothing happened when they all came in. Everybody kinda just seemed to be wrapped up in their own conversations when Lady grabbed my arm and said, “why don’t we continue this in a quiet spot”. We walked over to right in front of her bedroom door and continued where we left off. A few more minutes went by before we stopped. I had started to look around the rooms during this time. I wanted to see if Roomie woke up yet or if anybody had saw us,either scenario would’ve been preferable compared to what happened. The guilt started to hit me. It wasn’t what Roomie told me how it was okay to get with his cousins that crossed my mind. But the fact I broke a promise, one I specifically for myself. While thinking about my broken promise, lady had gently pushed my back against the wall and asked if we should take this to her bedroom. I knew exactly what she was asking for, and it wasn’t what I wanted at all. The idea of having sex at that moment felt wrong in every sense of the way. I was drunk firstly to the point where I couldn’t even get hard. I had Roomie to worry about, my broken promise, I even was scared about how I was gonna get me and roomie home. I think Lady saw my distaste for the idea and said “we don’t have to do anything crazy. Let’s just cuddle and watch a movie together. That idea appealed to me, I wouldn’t need to deal with sex or worry about Roomie for the time being. It sounded relaxing actually and so I took her up on her offer. I wish I had never step foot into that room.

The Incident: we had both walked into her room. I had sat on the corner of her bed and she turned and locked the door. It didn’t take her long to put on insidious as the movie we were watching. The opening scene had began playin but I hadn’t moved from my spot. Lady had then sat up and walked over to me, standing directly in front of me. She asked why I was so tense when we should start relaxing more. She began stripping completely to my surprise and I started panicking internally. I didn’t want to get naked. I started thinking of every worse possible reaction she could have of me. She interrupted my thoughts when she said “what are you doing? Aren’t you going to get comfortable?” I didn’t know what to do, all I knew was what I didn’t want to do. I took off my jacket but couldn’t bring myself to do any more than that. Lady was dissatisfied and started undressing me herself. It started with my shirt, then my shoes, then my pants. I was down to nothing but my underwear and I freaked out. I started thinking about my choices. If I ran out of here, wouldn’t she just expose me to the family, or what if she tried accusing me of something for not following her orders. How many people would actually support me versus all the influence she had in her family and the power she had over me at that moment. She grabbed my underwear to pull it down but I stopped her. I told her that I didnt feel comfortable in this position, and that I don’t think I could even have sex at that moment. (Trying to reference the amount of alcohol I had prior) but she pulled even harder. Told me I had nothing to worry about and that we were in the same boat. There was nothing but worry on my mind though. I gave up. I let her pull down my underwear and layed back while she went to work. I couldn’t even look at her once. What’s worse is She knew I was turned off, she made a comment on it and asked if cosplaying would turn me on instead. I couldn’t even believe that THATS where her mind went after seeing how turned off I was. We then continued for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been long since the movie was still playing, before I had finally had enough. I got her off of me and stood up and told her I couldn’t take this anymore. She followed up my statement with, “what did you cum inside me already?” I was disgusted with that question and said i couldn’t even get hard, let alone cum. I quickly started throwing on my clothes, Lady had then tried to convince me that I didn’t need to leave and that we could stop having sex and just watch the movie. I felt sick, I couldn’t even look at her. I told her that Roomie trusted me to get him home and going to break that (which wasn’t true but I said anything I could to get out of that room.).

The Aftermath: I quickly ran over to Roomie, woke him up and we both ran out of there. I told Roomie it was urgent and that I needed him to trust me and to leave immediately. I told him everything after we left. I was scared he wouldn’t believe me, but actually told me that Lady was the exact type of person who would use others for sex and not think anything about how they feel.

Every single day since then I’ve had that scene cross my mind. Me holding up my underwear while Lady forcefully takes it off after I tell her how uncomfortable I was. I still see her at the family parties I often attend with my Roomie. She’s never once spoken a word about it to me or Roomie. It’s like the whole thing was just your average night for her. But for me, it was the most uncomfortable position I’ve ever been in. I wanted to badly to leave before things got out of hand, I just couldn’t work up the courage and now I have to live with this gross memory. I haven’t had sex since then and even the thought of getting intimate with another woman scares me a bit now. The thought of you thinking you knew a person well enough, but in reality, thing were much darker.

I guess what I really want out of this story I’m sharing of mine is, how do you cope after having something intimate become one of your nightmares at night? Something that bothers you on a consistent basis? Am I just susposed to wait this out? Have time heal it? It’s been over a year now? How long does it take? Do I just have to suffer in the meantime and hope the pain dies down? Was I the one in the wrong? How can I fix myself? I hate having this anxiety towards women. There are soooooo many lovely woman out there who Id love to flirt with, hell even talk to them in first place. I didn’t use to be so cowardly, but now I every time I show even the slightest interest in a woman or vice versa, I panicked and think of every worst outcome and terrible thing that will happen to me.

Again sorry for the long reading, I just didn’t know how to tell the story without missing anything out so that maybe someone could help me. If you could reply with some advice for me, I’d be eternally grateful. I’ll also clarify any sorta questions you guys may have. If you don’t comment on the matter, I still greatly appreciate you reading my story. It’s something that’s been on my mind for too long. Thanks again.

I was groomed and I kept it as my deepest darkest secret for so long, and sometimes I just feel like dropping comments about what happened.. not having a full on conversation, or venting, but just making jokes about it... it would feel so comforting to be able to talk about it, because I shouldn't be shameful about what someone else did, but hiding it makes me feel like I am...

I'm not saying I wanna talk about the fact that I sexted back, I don't wanna talk about it at all, I don't even want anyone to ever know that it was that bad..

I just wanna talk shit about her. And laugh about my pain, but I'm sooooo scared that it will have longterm consequences even if it's not even halfway venting just to my closest friends..

You think my concerns are logical?

Note: I kinda did talk about it with my friends but I never used the word grooming and just said that she was an adult who was obsessed with me and thought I was sexy when I thought we were just friends and I blocked her later. And I'm just going crazy over the fact that I might've told them too much? And I know I'm overreacting but I can't seem to stop myself from going further down the spiral so I made this post.

(My SAT is on Saturday I shouldn't even be thinking about this)

Saturday 4th of May, meditation workshop on working through experiences rejection, especially in childhood. We'll take an Attachment Theory approach to this work.

The course is available on a donation basis. If you lack funds you can sign up for a scholarship at no charge. The scholarship option is under the registration tab.

The meditations will draw from:

IPF

Schema Therapy

Coherence Therapy

https://attach.repair/2024-04-experiencing-rejection-cd-rd

I got jumped by 2 girls that i used to call my best friends because i was apparently talking shit when I wasn’t I’d always defend their name when people talked shit about them to me.

last November they confronted me and beat me for a hour til I managed to escape they spat at beat me almost to death I don’t feel like a human anymore I feel so worthless I’ve been going to therapy it’s helping but I’ll never be the same again they took a video of it I walk on eggshells I don’t want the video to be leaked what do I do if it gets leaked.

I’ll never be able to show my face again killing myself will be the last option left for me I have dreams I wanna make my mother proud I did mistakes and owned up to them I’m trying my best to survive I don’t know how much longer I can survive the guilt is killing me I feel so worthless and embarrassed to even speak or show my face I don’t know how to cope and how to forget.

At times the tiny box you lock at the back of your head just burst open and the best way to put them back in is call them out one by one... I will call mine here cause I am anonymous

1. 13yrs, the first time I truly felt like I failed my whole life. My defining moment was out. The moment you truly know where you stand. I still remember my parent's facial expression. Coming from an overachieving family, that face was inevitable. I still remember what her face contorted to. A mixture of disappointment, acceptance and fear. I can still see it now. The first time I truly felt like a failure. That face till today is a drive either out of fear or hope that I can unsee it.

2. 15yrs. When you come from an overachieving family like mine, you are either driven by motivation or driven by constant demoralising. And as a 15 yr old going through intense identity crisis you grow rooted to what you are surrounded by. Fortunately or unfortunately for me I was demorolized day in day out both by my thoughts and my environment. At 15, not feeling safe with my thoughts was a scary thing to go through. Yearning for physical pain more that going home is not something I'd hoped for on my early days. Though 15 is still early days. Thankfully I had school where I could be a totally different person and dissociate myself from the disfunctionality of my home life.

3. 16yrs. This was when covid struck and I was forced back into that household with no ability to run. I still wonder if people have the ability to switch personalities. To occupy a character you saw in a movie or you read from a book and totally adapt their customs and beliefs just to feel a sense of freedom. Does everyone have that one character in their head where they would retire to if you ever wanted a break. I hope everyone does. Because normalcy is what i crave so much.

4. 17yrs. When another defining milestone knocks at your door you remind yourself of what the previous one felt. That contorted face never left my mind and apparently my parent's too. Between the constant "you are lazy" and "you are stupid" there was a subtle comment that I caught onto " you are never gonna succed in life" and that stuck with me. Now at this age, I understand where they were getting at. Maybe they understood that failure was more of a motivator than success to me. Maybe they knew this all along or it was something that grew on me because of what I was accustomed to. Honestly, in my deepest core I believe that failure is what drives me. But this doesn't wash away the intense self hatred, constant low self esteem and the ever dying social battery. The social life that is accompanied by chronic people pleasing in an attempt to feel wanted. But I don't blame them, because they accomplished their goal and in a way all is forgiven.

5. 19yrs. I didn't have anyone to relive the tales of panic attacks with. Even in my group of friends telling a story you have told yourself for the longest time doesn't seem necessary but on the days when you find the courage to tell, you end up in reddit. One of those moments was a few days ago when my parent mentioned that their first born boy was the best child they ever had(forgive my traditional mentality but riddle me this) "the best child" who is too old to be living in there parents place with no sense of a future or a past. "The best child" who has been in and out of rehabs because of misdirected faith. "The best child" who from 16 has s*ally harassed me and have since been forced to sit beside them and simply forget about the times they'd come from behind nked while we were alone at home and me being forced to sprint outside because I felt safer that staying inside. And at night, simply forget how I'd lock the bedroom door and still hear him fiddle with the door and call out my name. But I choose to blame it on their mental issues. I will gladly "simply forget". In these particular days the tiny voices remind me that those mental issues were very targeted and subjective. But on these days, the tiny box doesn't stay locked And the tears don't stay hidden.

Now let me lock it back up and throw it at the back of my head.

I'm taking a class about facilitating small groups to help people recover. The teacher used "disassociate" instead of "dissociate." I got really triggered. I've been diagnosed with DID so it hits close. Do you get triggered about this mistake? It made the class very unsafe for some reason and I'm just trying to figure it out. Thanks!

Hello there folks, just reaching out to see if anyone has advice for me, and a handful of people that have been affected by a mutual ex-partner (F28) of ours. For me, this was an incredibly abusive 8 year relationship. For others, 2 years or less. We have all reached out to one another separately when we recognized the danger of our own previous situations, continually being perpetrated within the community. This has made it impossible for most of us to feel comfortable leaving our homes, joining in any group activities, or really just existing without running into her and her supporters. Let me give some context.

She is living in a tightly knit, sex-positive, poly-positive, queer friendly town. It is quite a large, mostly rural community that talks a big game about protecting each other from abusers, yet we are finding it impossible to be taken seriously. For a few reasons, I am assuming. One being confrontation is hard. Another, being she is a small girl, with a metric ton of charisma. Those who have not seen her dark side are often deeply enamored with her. She is wildly deceptive, and will lie, joke, and cry her way through any outside accusation. I believed and supported her for nearly a decade of my life while fully being under her spell of manipulation.

As far as her abuse, all of us have experienced the following: -being cheated on (chronically), and having that blamed on our behavior. -being diagnosed with disorders that our respective therapists do not agree with (mainly BPD) and having that used against us. -being told our ACTUAL mental illnesses prevent us from understanding the world (ADHD, autism) -hours long fits of wild rage, often with things being thrown, screaming insults and obscenities -feeling forced into saying and agreeing to things that are not true -unsafe sexual practices, such as not disclosing new partners, not being honest about using protection and not getting tested. -encouraging several of us to reconsider our transition due to all types of mental circles (thinking too much of ourselves, harboring internalized misogyny) -love and sex bombing the second we were able to leave.

This list can go on, the point is, this girl has an addiction to seeking out new sexual and romantic relationships on dating apps and in person. She has slapped me in the middle of grocery store, and choked me out of anger in private. I am someone with childhood abuse, and because of her manipulation i have spend years unlearning that all of her behavior was not entirely my fault.

So what do we do? how do we handle this? The three main folks that have been affected deeply by this have written her letters, trying to appeal to her directly but to no avail. She will always find a way to be the victim, immediately accusing those who call her out as the REAL abusers, narcissists, and even obsessive stalkers.

We’ve considered lots of different routes, she is very popular on social media due to her art, which is also her lively hood. but “call out posts” feel so inhuman, and do they actually ever help anyone? I have thought about reaching out to close friends of her’s, but that feels dangerous to me and like it would backfire. I am considering just straight up meeting with her in person for one last attempt to get through to her, with a witness present.

Anyway, any opinions or help finding sources would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.

Does anyone have friends or situations where leaving is the trigger? Intense panic at the end of something that feels good and safe? It's almost enough to ruin the experience and I hate it. 😣 Any ideas or rituals that help you?

sup.

TW/CW: suicide

I want to share a bit about myself and my life, and my experience with social anxiety, so that I may hopefully gain some insight or something and be able to do whatever I can to improve my life.

I am gonna try to make this farily condensed.

(CW: trauma, abuse)

first of all, I don't just have social anxiety, I have fairly severe depression and perhaps some kind of personality disorder, it's hard for me to differentiate between social anxiety and potential personality disorder. I assume it would be avoidant personality disorder if i have one.

I have some significant trauma in my childhood: I had an abusive, addicted, severely mentally ill mother, I was taken from her custody at like 9 (after years of severe physical and mental abuse and neglect). Biological father either was dead or idk what, I can't trust anything my mother said.

Even before I was taken from her custody I was moving around constantly and wasn't made to go to school, I was sick all the time and kept from going to school often, so I didn't have opportunities to make and keep friends. I continued to move around a lot and changed custody from different family members for a few years, till moving in with my stepdad (father of half-brother) and his backwards-ass conservative/bigot/abusive family from around 12 to 18. This situation was pretty crazy: I shared a room with stepdad, brother, and often stepdad's girlfriend all those years, and shared a house with his mother and similarly abusive brother and their random friends who were down on their luck. he was rarely physically abusive but was often mentally and emotionally abusive. it was a quasi-religious, socially conservative, kinda Christian fundamentalist household.

I had a pretty rough high school experience, I was a weird, socially awkward kid, and didn't make real friends till sophomore year. before that point I wound up hanging with the wrong crowd and getting bullied, even bullied others a little bit (not serious bullying, idk if the people I am thinking of would have that perspective, but i think I may have done this a little. not a lot, and not after a certain point, but a little).

I moved out and went to community college and basically went no contact with family after high school. things continued to go downhill from here:

1. my friends' parents took a liking to me and offered me to pay very low rent in their second house near the college, but i failed to succeed in school and my social troubles prevented me from having the type of relationship with them one would expect. they were disappointed in me and cut me off after the first year. my mental health and adhd caused me to drop out.
2. I was planning on taking a short break from school. At some point, i felt like i wasn't as good of a friend in the friend group I was a part of as everyone else: everyone else seemed closer to one another. Idk how true this was, or if I was catastrophizing. but I basically cut 8 "friends" or more out of my life, went from regular talking and hanging out to complete silence. I ignored calls and texts for a year, they eventually stopped trying. a couple times, we would run into each other in public and I would respond very briefly and coldly. one previous friend walked away almost in tears. I felt awful about all this but couldn't bear the thought of trying to reconnect with them.
3. at the point I left my first friend groups a cycle started. I made a new group of friends, it lasted a year or so, and i did the same. I went no contact with them. And it happened again, and one other time.
4. now we are in the present: after the last batch of "friends" I left behind, I have not tried to find friends. I feel too depressed and anxious and self critical to try. I am 27 turning 28 next month.

some other random things going on:

1. I am a leftist/socialist/anarchist. I try my best to address systemic oppression and want to change the systems we live under for the best. almost all of us are being exploited and i want this to change. i mention this because given that i am totally alone and isolated, there are higher stakes for me than the average person even given my privilege when confronting bigots. basically, i had some neighbors who were a bit toxic and i wanted to be a good role model to them, but when i called them out, it eventually devolved into them threatening and harassing me and i was forced to defend myself. knowing they would have to deal with my self-defense, they continued to harass me without crossing certain boundaries, which there is nothing i could do to deal with unless they crossed certain lines. it was like 6 months of them harassing me, talking under their breath, yelling slurs from the balcony. thankfully they have moved out, but i feel so alone in confronting members of the alt-right and general fuckery.
2. I am poor.
3. I was hit by a car recently and had a bad concussion. I have two broken shoulders lol. (I am mostly recovered but this has given me a lot of anxiety about biking around town, I don't have a car and bike to work every day). it was the other person's fault. I have been hit by a car while on my bike another time but was not injured that time. I also was in a major car accident as a kid while going on a fishing trip, had a ruptured spleen, spent a week in the icu, and it made me miss 6 months of school when i moved in with my stepdad.

I guess i will talk about my social anxiety specifically now.

1. I wonder if my social anxiety caused me to not be able to connect with my friends, which is how i got the impression i was less valued by them. it is hard for me to know whether i actually was less valued or if that was just in my head.
2. social anxiety affected my learning because i was constantly thinking of the people around me instead of what i was supposed to be learning. I also was afraid to talk to teachers.
3. essentially any interaction with a person feels like a struggle to me, from dealing with cashiers to my boss and coworkers, healthcare workers, etc.
4. I am worried about how to go to school: I will lose my mind if I have to continue working low wage jobs for the rest of my life, with no hope of retiring. I have constant indecision about what i could even pursue.
5. idk what else to say, tired from going over this...

anyways, i hope this gives some context for my problem, if it helps you can ask me some questions and maybe i can give more specific info cause i know this is a lot.

Also so people know, i have been in therapy for 4 years now and it has kept me alive but i am still stagnating and i really want to try and get things together and actually advance in my life. I am often wishing i was dead and virtually suicidal, but i have no intentions of carrying out anything at the moment.

I am looking for ideas of how to live my life better.

thanks!

I don’t know how to explain this, somehow I am a trigger he retreats starts speaking slowly and unintelligible. He says my behaviour is taking him back to ptsd. The way I treating him takes him back to war? This is combat ptsd the real stuff how do I remind my partner of such horrible things? He has been to many clinics and has been sick and seems to think I attack him when he is away and it’s more he kind of pushes me away but then wants me there. Oh in these absences 2 full on affairs have happened with 2 separate women totalling a year of our near 4 yr relationship ( side detail ) I relate the same feeling as someone pulling at your shirt then pushing you away over and over and over litterally feels that way. Neither time have we been ti couples therapy
I have now recently been diagnosed after suffering anxiety and panic attacks with BPD. Are we just a mental health mess and missing each other points and needs and wants? I feel we love each other but at a point we can no longer understand what the other is going through? Can’t seem to put the other before ourselves. Always battling either one or the others conditions very exhausting.
I am just very beaten down and now worried my BPD has made this scenario but can’t get a clear enough look from a outside perspective or is the ptsd a way to push blame back onto me after the affairs?

Hello,

After flashbacks I feel sometimes up to some days bad. Psychologically and physical. I learned today, thanks to this sub, that electroyte drinks are helping with the phsyical jaded feeling.

Do you have some other advice?

Super rough draft (as in I wrote it in one go and am deciding to post lol). This may not resonate, but it also may. Feedback always welcome. I want to someday actually be a decent writer, so all feedback is wholeheartedly welcome..

Never had love

Don't think I want it

If I could feel it

I would find it

Clearly, I'm not really looking hard

Or in any of the right places

I keep myself guarded

I protect myself from people

Maybe even people like you (yet still, I think the best of you)

Maybe I just like being miserable

Get off on this type of hurting

I tell myself to give up on love

But truth is, I never believed

The notion is illusionary, can't conceptualize

can't comprehend, can't even recognize

and from day one I've been a skeptic

been trained to see love for what I hope it isn't

Pain and suffering and dollar signs given to mothers

At least someone can benefit

from this fucked up shit

I just want to feel something other than

This overwhelming distrust

Since I can't even look at a happy couple

Without second hand embarrassment

Love isn't embarrassing

But you'll believe that

if you don't know how it feels

Or looks

Or tastes

Can't recognize it from an inch away

I see myself slipping

Into something that may not be so pleasant

I've been raised to think this is normal

That this bullshit happens to most of us

Sure, okay. Not entirely inaccurate

Let's normalize the worst case scenario

Let's let me think it's okay to put myself

here, in these fucking fucked up positions

I wanna believe in love

But I think it's embarrassing

I think of being cuddled

And I laugh at the people

whove been lucky enough to experience it

from 2020 to september of 2022 i was in a relationship with a man who made me a victim of torture-based mind control. things started so mildly and infrequently and then progressed so achingly slowly for so long that by the time things had progressed to me being terrorized, psychologically tortured, and physically/sexually abused on a daily basis for essentially every second of each day.

after i became free from him and the abuse, it took me a good bit of time to realize and accept that i had been abused. since then, it’s taken even more time to unravel the full truth of what happened from repressed memories.

i will say, especially given just how fucked up and unbelievable the reality of this is, i’ve made a ton of progress in processing and moving past different aspects of my traumas. but it seems like the more progress i make, the more clear the full story becomes, and then the more i become ensnared in it all over again because it’s too fucking surreal for me to wrap my head around. it’s like i know that it’s true and that it really happened, but i can’t accept it as such.

but when it comes down to it, i think the thing i’m struggling with the most is just straight up, how do i let this go?

how do i just accept the horrific things that were done to me and the fact that no one around me noticed and still have no idea that anything happened at all?

how do i stop myself from digging any deeper into learning more about what was done to me and bringing up repressed memories by comparing them to the things i’m reading about and just accept that it happened? and that even now this is something completely out of my control because he planned his escape so perfectly and is committing to it even to this day so strongly that even if i ever tried to tell anyone, they’d never believe me. and if they did, he still wouldn’t ever face any repercussions whatsoever.

how do i just let it go and move on as if it never happened without any sort of fucking retribution? i deserve fucking retribution of SOME kind. but i know it’ll never come.

please just help me. i can’t carry the burden of this anymore, but i can’t let it go. what do i do?

I am a woman in my 50's. To most, I am successful and seem healthy in all aspects.

I will just do bullet points and will fill in details if asked by commenters. I don't want to do TL/DR. I will try to do too short / please elaborate.

At 14, I meet a 21 year old who was charming and attractive at church.

At 17, he asked me out. He was 24. He was my first sexual partner.

He cheated about 9 months into the relationship. I was saving myself for marriage so it was particularly devastating when we broke up. He wasn't a virgin, but we were both Christians with the same mindset about sex.

At 21 he contacted me and we spoke regularly, but it was long distance. I was in college 2000 miles away. We spoke romantically and sexually.

After a few months I wanted to date boys at my college and stopped taking his calls.

I began my career, had a few nice relationships and married a great guy at 27. We had 2 wonderful children.

After 17 years of marriage he contacted me and swept me off my feet. We started an affair. At this point we were only a few hours drive from each other. Our proximity was mostly coincidence, but 15 years earlier, when my husband and I were considering relocation, I did think of how much closer I would be to him.

I asked for a divorce only weeks after rekindling with him. It was a whirlwind.

The affair was extremely uncharacteristic of me. I was not impulsive and my family was everything to me.

... this is the point of my story where grooming bonds turn to trauma bonds. I have a slightly better handle on the following events through DV counselling and support groups. However, in combination with the above, there is added complexity to my DV but I don't think I am completely alone in this...

He took a year to divorce his wife. Although he did separate from her and moved to be near me after a few months. We maintained separate housing for reasons I do not remember.

After 2 years of unbearable emotional turmoil, we finally lived together and got married 6-12 months later. I was determined to prove that I did not throw my life away for nothing.

We fought a lot. He raised his voice and acted violently but not toward me. I was not accustomed to yelling. It was scary.

Eventually it did became physical and we both went to jail. First, I was severely beaten. He went to jail and I went to the hospital. Second, he sent me to jail in retaliation. Third, I called the police to take his guns because he refused, I did not know he would be arrested again. He hated me for that.

He threatened to take my house one day and that was it for me. I divorced him. If I had stayed married for three years, he would have claim to it, even if not on the deed. All that time he did not work. I paid all expenses.

I was terrified to leave him. I thought I would die. There were stops and starts long after the divorce. Fortunately, I have been cold turkey for two years now.

He still emails me daily and calls as Unknown Number sometimes up to four times a day, leaving 4 minute voicemails. He threatens suicide, and I will feel guilty if he ever go through with it, but I have not reason to think it is anything more than another tactic to get my attention. I no longer read the emails (they go to spam) and I do not listen to voicemails. Twice a mutual friend asked me to talk to him because of major life events and he was 'tormented' that he couldn't talk to me. I gave him one conversation each time.

I hide away now. I don't date. I know he still has a hold on me but for the most part I am free. I will never go back to him.

..... So here is my question:

I just watched "A Friend of The Family". A google search showed me that indeed a 17 year old could be groomed by a 24 year old, but could those bonds last a lifetime? Obviously there were trauma bonds in our later relationship, but could the 9 month relationship when I was 17 account for my irrational behavior 27 years later?

I am very hard on myself for all my mistakes and have attempted suicide a few times, once being a very close call. I'm not sure if blaming my behavior on a grooming bond would be an excuse or an explanation.

.....

I have a second question for those who truly understand the dynamics of lifelong grooming and/or trauma bonds. It's more an ask for advice than question.

I do not want to go to counselling right now because I have a steadiness that seems too fragile for that. I have been in counselling for a good part of my life. I see a psychiatrist every 3 months for ADHD, PTSD and sleep medication. I know I still need more healing, but they only therapy that appeals to me is psychedelics or some other drug therapy that will radically heal trauma in my brain. I know you will say to ask my psychiatrist about it, but he only tells me that studies vary and my best course is to continue the same old, same old with him. I know he is a crappy doctor, but I need my medication. So if you actually understand me, and have advice, please let me know. I appreciate your help. I know I don't deserve your time, but hopefully bearing my story has given you some healing or affirmation.